Body to Bed
by Mizz Moneypenny
Summary: RE-POST! Life on Mars. Slash. After a tragic accident, one member of CID must rebuild their life and evaluate exactly where their last relationship went wrong, even if it does mean opening some old wounds. GeneXSam, Gene's POV. Please rate and review!
1. Chapter 1: Me and 'im may 'ave been love

**Hello and welcome to another one of my insane musings! This is another Life on Mars fic that has been in the work for some time but I've only just plucked up enough courage to post so be kind because, although I like it, I'm not sure if everyone else will. I'm still writing 'Keeping it in the Family?' but felt like a bit of a change, hence this.**

**Before you start reading, please note that this is Slash. If you don't like the mere thought of male on male action, then this probably isn't for you. Also, I don't own any of the characters in this story – they are all property of the BBC and Kudos.**

**As angsty as this is, I hope you enjoy it for what it is! Please take the time to let me know what you think at the end.**

**Cheers : )**

_"I told you, it's __over__!"_

He stormed out of me office like a bolt of lightening, 'is words like an electric shock to my body of steel; an unwanted jolt that made me melt. I should have seen it comin' a bloody mile off. Should've known that the jumped up little prat wouldn't want to be around _me_ for too long. I just didn't want to admit it to me-self. Too much pride.

Or perhaps too much stupidity.

'Ow he'd said 'over', that 'urt. It felt as bad as it sounded. Like a dagger ripping through every artery in my body. 'Ow the 'ell was my body _meant_ to function without him – the one bastard person who was keeping me nearly sane?

No matter 'ow many times I replayed that over and over again in me 'ead, I knew it would never get any easier to 'ear. It was like a stuck record caught on the scratches; painful to 'ear the beloved tune in such crap condition.

If anyone 'ad seen me right about then, they would have laughed, I felt sure of it. Me mouth was 'anging open wider than the Mersey ruddy tunnel. I wasn't quite sure at the time if that was real shock. I wasn't sure if my face really expressed 'ow I was truly feeling. I'd never been too good at all that feeling malarkey. You couldn't be in a job like I'd got. Well, he'd probably disagree. _Mr. Sensitivity_.

Yet, why 'ad he been so blunt wit' me?

In my mind, things between 'im and I were going well. Better than well. Great. Perfect?

Perfect was perhaps a little strong. Nothing in this world could ever be that. Just when you think one part of your existence is fine, just when something is finally working out - BANG! Sommats else comes round the corner and punches you in the gut, knocking you for six.

Guess the gut instinct isn't always as reliable as I'd like to give it credit for.

Me and 'im - strange combination that. It started off with us getting a little too close for comfort. Something just clicked though. I can't describe it - we just worked together, in more ways than one. From the minute my beady eyes 'ad first peered onto 'im, I knew he was different. Unique. Fascinating. Weird.

Wry little bastard's got me gagging for it. I'm not a Nancy boy though - never 'ad been and never would be as far as I'm concerned. That's just not _natural_, is it? Blokes shoving their ding-a-lings up each others jackseys. It's not _right_.

But I loved it. I love _him_.

'Love'. Strange word. We'd discussed it once. Well, he'd rambled on about it, I just stared at 'im. I watched his mouth stroll over words, the way he pronounced 'love'. I felt it, this tingling sensation. As if I was gonna throw up. That's what love is meant to do to you - I read it in one of the missus' magazines once. Pile of dog shit they are. I'd never felt that before. _'Love'_. It felt good in the most sickenly perverse way you could imagine. You can't eat; you can hardly sleep unless they're barely inches apart from you. You feel like utter rubbish. Even the simplest of everyday tasks becomes a full scale military operation. You 'ave to remember not to sing to those corny love songs you 'ear on Valentines day when you're shaving unless you want your face to look like a Rottweiler's been at it.

You feel like utter rubbish. Unless they're near you. Unless they are with you - then you feel like a million fucking dollars.

I knew that I was 'in love' - January 15th 1974. Just after eight o'clock at night. I'd had a shit Christmas - me missus' parents 'ad treated me like crap, telling me I should be there with 'er more. Like I didn't know that? Unless you are a copper, or a doctor, fireman, you don't really understand 'ow difficult working hours can be. If the public need you then you 'ave to be there. Even if you are in the middle of the best shag in the world, you have to wipe up the stains and move on.

Pity things in the real world are never quite as easy as that, a pity that you just can't shove love in the washing machine and let the dirt and scars be washed away forever.

Right then and there, it would have suited me down to the ground.

Yet, that Thursday I was determined to be the best damn 'usband this planet 'ad ever known. I'd managed to rap up a case by five, locking three sods away with attempted burglary. So, I went to the shop, got the wife some of 'er favourite chocolates, a nice bottle of red and flowers. White roses - 'er favourites.

I went round to 'is to shower. This was 'ow it was to start with. We were like two magnets - our poles kept turning. We'd either be fiercely attracted to each other or trying our bloody 'ardest to ignore all of this poofter stuff. At first, we'd share the odd snog; we'd fumble about in the back of the Cortina, stuff like that.

We both tried to deny it. He was dating that soppy plonk, I was married. Neither of us 'ad ever 'ad a boyfriend before. Boyfriend - that doesn't sound right.

But it _felt_ right.

So, I showered, pecked 'im on the cheek and sped off 'ome to be with 'er. Me wife. Me life partner. The person who I'd vowed to be with forever. Until death do us part, all that bollocks. Not really religious, me. If things are gonna 'appen, they are and that's it. It's down to nothing or no one other than you.

As I pulled up on the curb, I was surprised that all of the lights were off. Thinkin' nothing of it, I grabbed the carrier bag with all of me gifts in and 'eaded inside the 'ouse. I felt like a regular modern day Santa Claus. She's moaned all Christmas about me putting weight on. Yet none of that seemed to matter to 'im. He'd sometimes grumble about it, being the picky little prick he was about 'ow it would ruin me 'ealth in the future but I knew he loved me for who I was. Or at least, I _thought_ he loved me for who I was. It only mattered to 'er, Mrs. Bleeding-Perfection. Pity our marriage wasn't such a rosy picture as what she made it out to be. Stupid cow.

I called for 'er. Nothing. Could barely believe me eyes when I saw the note on the kitchen table.

She'd 'ad to go round to 'er mates 'ouse who'd just lost 'er cat. Bullshit. We were meant to be goin' out - seeing some fairy fucking singer that she drooled over. It was me Christmas present to 'er. What a waste of money.

But I was determined that it wasn't going to be a waste of an evening.

I threw everything back into the car, made me way back round to 'is. That's when I 'ad me first _proper_ male on male experience.

I knew from that moment on I loved 'im. That's right, I loved 'im - more than anyone in me life. More than that miserable bitch I'd been married to for God knows 'ow long. At the grand old age of 45, Gene Hunt 'ad met his soul-mate. The only person I knew I wanted near me for the rest of me days on earth.

As 'ollywood as that sounds, I knew it was what I wanted. Like most 'ollywood stories 'owever, it wasn't as easy as all that. We were both in relationships (if that's what you could dare to describe mine as), both 'ad high authority jobs, respectable position in our city. The world renowned homophone finding love - with another man?

Surely not.

But I was certain of it. Put me life on the line with that statement.

Put me life on the line for him - without any shadow of a doubt. In a heartbeat, I'd take every bullet under the sun for him.

And I thought he felt the same about me.

Disrupting my derailed train of thought, he strolled back into my office. 'Is steps were small but not coy enough not to commanded respect. That was all I ever gave 'im and all he'd ever given back. Well, once he took 'is 'ead out of 'is arse anyway. I stood to me feet, wanting to embrace 'im with all of my body. I wanted to feel him so close to me.

Couldn't though - job to do.

_"Hostage situation - Elm Street. I've sent DS Carling and DC Skelton on ahead."_

Before I 'ad a chance to reply, he'd gone, scampering back to 'is desk to fetch 'is leather jacket. I loved the way he looked it that. It clung to 'im so well, the perfect fit.

_We_ were the perfect fit.

I mimicked 'is actions, following 'im like the lost puppy I felt I was.

By the time I got to the driver's seat of me trusty motor, he was already sat there, his tight arse firmly in place, 'is harsh glare fixed on the road ahead. He didn't even openly acknowledge me striking up the engine. I wanted 'im to tell me to take it steady, to not drive like a raving lunatic.

He didn't. We were sat in bloody silence for the first time since forever. There was no small chit chat, not about the case, what we were planning on doing later. No even about the fucking weather. And the silence was driving me ballistic.

_"Elm Street, you say?"_

My lame attempt at conversation clearly did very little - in response, he nodded vaguely. I'd only just spotted his cold reply in the corner of me eye.

The car tore down the road, 'is 'ard, fire fuelled eyes matching the screeching tyres against the tarmac.

My gut told me this was going to be a bad trip. I could already feel a witch's caldron bubble inside me stomach, as if I'd had too many dodgy curries down town.

We didn't speak all the time during our outing to Elm Street. I could see, when I turned to glance at 'im, the pain scratched into 'is face. If I'd been vainer, I would have seen that same expression etched into my stony features.

As I continued to drive, I became more and more conscious of 'im. I couldn't keep myself from looking, staring at 'im. I'd never been so...transfixed by anyone before. It was bizarre. I couldn't get his words out of me 'ead. They swirled severely, like a tornado, trashing every good memory I had with 'im. I could barely believe 'ow blunt he'd been.

_"We can't carry on like this."_

_"Why?"_

He didn't need to say a damn word. 'Is eyes, lowing like a dusky, melancholic sun. _"Annie."_

_"I'm going to propose to her."_

_"Ya what?" _I spluttered, shell shocked. Sure, they'd been kind of together for a while but too soon for marriage...surely?

_"I love her."_

_"I thought you loved __me__?"_

This silence nearly drove me mad. He was methodically thinking it through. You could practically 'ear the cogs grinding against each other, rust loosening with each turn.

_"I did...do. I don't know. This isn't 2006 - this is 1974. We can't justify this."_

I cocked an eyebrow, decided to use a bit of that good ol' Gene Genie charm I was certain that he loved. Or at least sort of liked. _"I thought that would've been my line?"_

_"The point is," _he began, completely ignoring me. Poncey prick. _"It's gone on for long enough. Sure, it was fun while it lasted. We were good together..."_

_"But?" _I interjected, fearing his pause but at the same time wanting to know exactly where I bloody well stood. I 'ated 'ow bloody nonchalant he was being, for the first time since he'd waltzed into 'ere on 'is 'igh 'orse. Torturing bastard.

_"__But__, you can't give me everything a woman can."_

_"Like what?!" _I cried. I thought it would be me saying it, not 'im...

_"I dunno that kind of touch. That warmth of her smile. Children. Love."_

_"Love? LOVE? For four fucking months we've been MAKING love!"_

He groaned, didn't want to go into much detail. That made a pissing change. The bastard usually couldn't get enough of his procedure and protocol. Then, he cracked, the nonchalance fading like a distant memory. I could see 'im, getting more and more worked up over it. Beads of sweat bounced along 'is eyebrows. _"No Gov, we've been shagging each other whenever we could get the chance - that's hardly making love is it?"_

I was gob smacked, certain that my ears were deceiving me. I love 'im. He loved me - at least that's what I _thought. _It wasn't just some fuck about we'd been doing to get away from our shitty relationships. He wasn't just someone to 'elp me escape the missus and her nagging ways. It was much, _much_ more than that.

_"Sammy, please..."_

_"No, no, no, no, la, la, la, la, la..."_

He covered 'is ears wit 'is 'ands. He didn't want to 'ear a damn word. I crept over to 'im, unsure 'ow I should approach 'im. I never begged of anyone in my life. I sure as 'ell wasn't going to start now.

_"Please?" _I questioned, showing 'im a bit of that sincerity I'm sure he would love.

_"I told you, it's __over__!"_

The car jerked, coming to a screeching 'alt. In reality, the journey had ended. Unfortunately, we were only at the foot of a much taller mountain.

He rushed out before I'd even opened the car door, offering that thieving plonk a peck on the lips. It made me skin crawl, me blood boil...my heart melt. The little poofter was such a good bloody kisser.

Although I envied 'er for that moment in time, I realised that despite of 'is warmth towards 'er, she looked far from 'appy being close to 'im like that. I'm not good at expressions - not all of the time. I can tell if a nonce is lying. I can tell if he's lying, now. After months studying every single appearance he 'as, I've finally cracked it.

But amongst that, she looked a little pissed off, almost regretful. Typical bird, that.

"Right!" he ordered sarcastically cheerfully, "Let's not make this murder on Elm Street - move it!"

"Wait!" I yelled. I was trying to keep me wits about me - for a ruddy change. I guess that's what he's done to me in the months I've known 'im - made me think before I put me size eleven in it.

The rest of my team gave me an eagerly puzzled look; they wanted to get on with this. They were chomping at the bit - some more than others. Ray with 'is 'andgun cocked as if he was in 'Live and Let Die', Chris trying - as per bloody usual - to mimic my Sergeants actions. Then there was Annie, at the other end of the supposed spectrum. She recognised the traits of a raving mad man and feared that was exactly what the usually docile Detective Inspector was turning into.

"What?" the DI spluttered, choking on 'is un-amusement.

"We need a plan. We can't just char-"

"Fuck that, Gene!" he yelped, 'ands waving about as if he was drowning in a tidal wave. "Why don't we just charge in there like mad men, and blow 'is 'ead off with a gun!"

Usually, I would 'ave given the cocky little shit a good dressing down about that - mocking me like that. 'Owever, I knew he was in danger, mainly of 'imself.

No matter what I could've said, I knew he wouldn't 'ave listened. He was past caring, past listening to the voice of reason. Not that I was that - far bloody from it! That was usually 'im. But not this time.

Looking back, I wish I'd at least attempted to stop 'im. I _should've_ at least _tried_ to stop that ponce - grabbed 'im by the scruff of 'is neck, thrusted 'im in the back of the Cortina for 'is own safety.

At least if I 'ad done that, he might not 'ave pressed the self destruct button.

I was too bloomin' confused by 'is ragging state of mind to even notice 'im fly past me. It wasn't until I 'eard 'im barge through the door, shoulder first as if he was me bloody double, that I realised that he was being serious. Deadly fucking serious.

I followed 'im, urging the saner members of me team to keep behind me - to keep their eyes and ears open. I'd always said that if one member of our team fell than the rest of us would too - something I didn't necessarily want to put into practise.

I squinted, trying to adjust me vision to the dim lighting of the 'ouse. I could detect nothing. I could see nothing. Yet, I could feel everything; the oppressive, tense atmosphere. Me gut was in knots already. I could feel that something was about to go with a bang.

I just wish it 'adn't 'ad been 'im.

Pulling me lighter from me trouser pocket, my fingers fumbled over gum wrappers, squashed and unfortunately empty cigarette packets as well as one of the many all important hip flasks. If there was ever a day I needed a stiff drink more than anything in the world, today would be it.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" I 'eard 'im chirp, a bird in the direct line of fire. Stupid fucker. After all of the occasions he'd told me to keep meself on red alert, to be discrete and then he was shouting shit like that? Incredible. So precisely 'im, the messed up sod.

I told the rest of my men - and the plonk - to split up but to keep themselves steady. I needed to stop 'im before he did anything beyond ridiculous.

Then, I 'eard an ear splitting bang and a scream from behind the black veil of darkness.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2: 'Ell 'ath no fury

**Hi everyone! Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter of 'Body to Bed' - I hope that you'll be able to give me some feedback at the end of this chapter, just so I know whether you like where this is going or not!**

**Thanks and enjoy!

* * *

**

I gulped, recognising the sound instantaneously. That scream, ear piercing. Heart breaking; I knew who it 'ad come from. Me gut and ears were in agreement. I knew it was 'im - the first time I 'eard 'im scream, he'd sounded more like a pissin' girl than ever. He'd told me to go 'arder, faster, bent over and begging like the dog _he_ was. I obliged, like the good bum bandit_ I_ was. Fucking fairy.

Me lighter was quickly burning out. I needed to get to 'im. I had to stop them doing anymore damage than it sounded like they already 'ad. I 'ad to forget about the past and concentrate on getting to 'im before it was too late.

I fumbled around my jacket. I felt sure I'd got more than just one lighter on me, just in case. Then, I came across a packet of matches. Thank ruddy God.

I struck one up, my heart pounding against me chest as I stumbled through the darkness, dodging the darkest clouds around me. There was some light, trying to flood through the near opaque windows, stained with muddy rainwater. I saw shadows emerge, darkening the unrecognisable ground. They were cackling like demented witches. I could just see them, mocking my Sammy. Twisted sods.

"How are you now, DI Tyler?" I 'eard one of them snarl, their voice effortlessly cruel. Fucking twat.

I stepped forward, watching their faces only twitch slightly - people like that never showed remorse. They didn't even look surprised to see me. "Drop your weapons," I demanded, still keeping me focus on them. I daren't look at 'im for fear of what I might find.

"Well, well, well, Tyler - looks like your buggering partner can go to hell with you!" he exclaimed, perversely sweet like. He kicked Sammy. Hard. A sickening thud followed by an equally as sickening groan; short and desperate.

I remember swallowing the thick saliva that had been mingling in me mouth. Now was not the time to lose me bottle. "I'm not going to ask you again - put your bloody weapons down - NOW!"

Another one of 'em stepped from the shadows, balaclava over their presumably ugly mug. "Or what, _DCI Hunt_?"

Cocky arsehole.

I couldn't quite make out where they'd come from. Their accents weren't foreign but not British either. They knew us, that I felt sure of. 'Is voice...I knew it from somewhere. I just couldn't put me finger on it. He obviously knew more about me that _I'd_ care to admit.

He 'oisted 'is gun into the air, squinting as 'is 'and steadily pointed it to me chest, without an ounce of guilt. I thought I felt me heart thudding against me windpipe. There was no where to run. I couldn't even 'ave protected 'im: the one I guess I truly loved.

Perhaps it wouldn't 'ave been such a bad thing, if I'd got shot. I wouldn't 'ave 'ad to face some of the shit a bit later on. I would 'ave saved meself the pain of that at least.

Plumping up me chest, I was ready to take it like a man. I closed me eyes, taking one last large breath, relishing the lingering cigarette smoke and whisky that I could smell on meself. I started to think of all of those good memories. It took literally seconds, from me childhood, to me wedding day. Then 'is first day in Manchester. From then on, the memories rolled in me head, sort of blissfully but with many sudden trips along the way.

They too came to an end pretty quickly. It troubled me to think that we'd never 'ave any more moments like them. Our quips to one another that always ended with us proving the other wrong, laughing any of our arguments off; we'd certainly made each other mellower. It was as if we were free to show each other our imperfections, trusting the other to improve them with each passing day. Together.

The idea of that all coming' to an end - that nearly tore me in two.

We weren't perfect and neither of us 'ad kidded the other into believing so. We knew what we were good 'at and what we weren't, what the other liked and what they didn't. It was all a learning process with 'im, as if we really were toddlers, trying to push our way forward, to be accepted in the big wide world.

I don't believe in all that afterlife shit. You have one life, one chance to do everything. Then you're gone like a puff of smoke.

Now I wished I was a praying man - not for meself but for 'im.

I 'eard a faint cry of 'is - a soft mumble of agony before unconsciousness must 'ave slipped over him like a needled blanket; uncomfortable yet protecting 'im from the horrid sights that consciousness might bring. God, that 'urt. I winced, feeling tears prick at me eyes. Why 'ad I all of a sudden turned into such a pansy?

My eyes only opened a crack, my vision still submerged in darkness. I rested me 'ands against me stomach, wishing that I was fitter so I could 'ave 'ad a good chance of running away from this bullshit.

"Bye Sammy - see you in 'ell." I whispered wryly, hoping that me own voice would bring calm to me and 'im if he could 'ear me.

Shutting me eyes again, I held me 'ead up 'igher - I was gonna take this like a man, not a mouse. I 'eard 'im click the bullets into place - I was past caring. I'd got a failed marriage, a job which I wasn't enjoying anymore (well, would you be able to in this situation?!) and me DI come bum buddy conked out on the floor. None of this would be described as appealing to anyone with their half brain cell in tact.

Suddenly, I 'eard hasty but soft footsteps drawing closer, jogging over to us. My eyes opened only barely seeing that the shooter was now on the floor - bleeding. My ears 'ad stopped working through choice – never again did I want to 'ear my Sammy whimper like he 'ad done moments before 'and.

Finally, the rest of the team 'ad got their sorry arses into gear!

I left me Sergeant and Constables to make the arrests. I couldn't move, didn't think I'd 'ave to face this haemorrhaging mess beneath me. I thought we were both goners.

I kind of _wished_ we were both goners.

Then, sweet Annie Cartwright came trundling over, 'er big eyes lighting up the whole room with 'er own brand of unexpected cheerfulness, perhaps a little confused about all of this...this silence surrounding us.

I couldn't bear to see what 'appened next; I 'eard 'er gasp, 'eard her tiny yet fast steps dash over to 'im. She shrieked, falling to the ground beside 'im, 'er sobs dramatic and girly. 'Ow birds could show that kind of emotion was beyond me.

I finally found the courage to see 'im, a vast crimson puddle engulfing 'im into the darkness.

"Gov! GOV - DO SOMETHING!"

I felt meself panting, tears hitching in the back of me neck. I needed to be the backbone for my team, not some crying, poncey div.

I shook meself, the daze doing nothing for no one. "Right, right...Ray, call a ruddy ambulance..."

I saw him deliberate, shocked by 'is superior's state. I saw 'im shift 'is eyes back from my bluntly perplexed gaze to Annie's scared face and to Sammy's motionless carcass.

"NOW!"

He ran like a scolded dog to one of our cars outside, 'is face as white as the winter's snow.

Chris was dumbfounded. Well, more than usual. With his mouth agape, I demanded that he and the other lads took the murderous bastards back to the station. I didn't want this to turn into a circus freak show, everyone staring at Tyler as if he was _really_ goin' to die. I couldn't face that - not then anyway.

Now, it was only us three stranded 'ere. With the cursing of the nonces and plodding of me coppers becoming fainter, the three of us in this relationship were alone. Together. I didn't include me missus anymore. Me and 'er died a long, long time ago.

I half snarled at 'er, me good side wanting to be sympathetic. Poor bitch - she clearly 'ad no idea what me and 'er soon to be 'fiancé' 'ad been up to. Or at least, she wasn't letting on that she knew.

"Annie, love, the ambulance will be 'ere soon." I said, my voice low trying to 'ide any ill-feelings I 'ad towards 'er.

Then, me 'eart sank lower to the pit of my stomach. Me lighter 'ad just lost its battle for life, the flame growing distantly smaller with each passing second. She glanced up, 'er 'ead sunk low into 'is chest as she cradled 'im in 'er arms, 'er sobbing uncontrollable. Soppy cow - 'ad she even bothered to feel for a pulse?!

I lit a match, knowing that the lighter's illumination was really gone. Then, I really did feel bad for 'er. 'Er eyes red and bloodshot like a Basset, 'er mascara smudged around the rims of 'er blue eyes as if she'd done fifty rounds with Muhammad Ali. She looked - and sounded - 'orrible, a million miles away from the DC Cartwright we'd often leer at in the office, some of us in a vague attempt at trying to be straight.

"I...I shouldn't b-be thinking this way s-should I?"

At first, I barely registered that she was talking. 'Er whispers were so fragile, like glass, threatening to shatter the dreams my DI once 'eld close to 'im.

I grunted, sarcasm creeping back into me voice; I swear none of this was real. I'd wake up in 'is dingy flat in a couple of minutes, 'im lying practically on top of me as if I'm gonna just magically leave 'im.

Oh 'ow irony _always_ rears its ugly 'ead.

"Thinking _which_ way?" I asked. I was beginning to lose the will of me good side; me bad side was starting to smother any sentiments of being sympathetic with the dumb bird that I may 'ave 'ad.

She didn't answer me though. Instead, 'er hands fluttered through 'is 'air, pushing it back from his sweaty 'ead; he was goin' into shock. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I looked away, turning my back on them. I was never very good at all of this ill shit. I remember once, when we'd 'ad dozens too many to drink at the Arms, he was throwing up sommats awful. I couldn't go comfort 'im. For one, I was slouched over 'is bed, meself too pissed and lazy to move. Secondly, I just couldn't deal with it; the retching, the plop of spittle into the bog as the water splash up in a mini tidal wave. It just wasn't in me to play 'Nursie'. Not at all.

Me 'ands pressed against me face, I pushed back any tears that were now stabbing at me eyes. I couldn't lose it now - not in front of 'er - the devil incarnate. Besides the missus at least.

'Er own pitiful grief soon turned to anger. "Why aren't you doing anything?" she cried between sobs, 'er voice 'igh and childlike, trying to be more like a parent; threatening, attentive but instead, she just sounded overly desperate and needy like the snivelling minor she was.

"What the 'ell could_ I_ possibly do?!" I yelled, panic stricken by my own irritation. I 'adn't meant to lose it, not with 'er. She'd only ever been good to me. I knew she was oblivious about me and 'im. You could just tell. The way she still looked at 'im. She didn't _look_ like she knew 'im and I 'ad been...you know.

She scoffed, shaking 'er 'ead bitterly at me. "You could 'ave stopped 'em, Gov!"

"If it comes to that, so could you!" I retorted, equally as sour. No way was some Plonk gonna shout at me like that and get away with it.

'Er eyes tapered; 'ell 'ath no fury like a woman's scorn. "You're 'is boss, Gov. You should have taken the bullet for 'im.

**"Don't you ever, EVER, tell me what I should or shouldn't do!" **I snarled, me gnashers blazing as was me temper. I 'ad to stop meself from grabbing the bitch by the neck. She'd 'it a sore spot and she damn well knew it.

I 'eard 'er wheeze in shock, pulling Sammy back with 'er, 'olding 'im up a little as a kind of barrier between the two of us.

_If only she knew._

I turned once again and looked away. I didn't like what I'd just said. Yep, that's right; Gene Hunt was falling apart at the seams, like a toddlers teddy bear missing an eye and 'is own stuffin' brain.

One nutcase once told us that fear turned us either into 'ero's or cowards. I shook, fearing my failings to protect the only person in the world who I'd consider a true friend was turning me into the gutless coward I'd always feared I was.

I'd known it a long time; I was scared. Too scared to even end me own dismal marriage.

The fear was always there that me and the missus would never make it. 'Er parents 'ad 'ated me the moment I'd strolled into their 'ouse. Still youthfully arrogant, as if the whole word should grant me instant respect. With me scruffy drainpipe jeans (when I still 'ad the figure to pull 'em off) and greasy 'air, I was 'ardly 'er Lawyer Father's idea of 'is only daughter's ideal 'usband'. If looks could 'ave killed, I would 'ave saved me parents the pain and expense of a funeral right there and then coz I would 'ave been dead and buried.

Still, would 'ave saved me a 'ell of a lot of trouble over the years!

I exhaled, barely comprehending where this day 'ad taken me; from an indecently but supposedly secure poofter relationship to an 'ostage situation we 'adn't really concluded. All because of 'im, the world was dismantling like a trampled on jigsaw.

Me senses were awoken by a familiar yet 'orrible screeching of the ambulance outside. I don't know 'ow long it 'ad taken them. I was killing time now, rather than counting it.

Two of 'em dashed in, torches floating over 'is body as they did their own routine; check for pulses, trying to get 'im to answer them. I think it was then that I must 'ave switched off. I don't remember if they'd been answered or not. I just stood, staring, me eyes glazed over like a pig on a spit roast as they secured 'im to a flimsy lookin' stretcher, unravelling 'is body from it's crumpled, contorted state.

It was as if I were inside a glass box, peering through the air tight surroundings. I couldn't 'ear anything. I just stood there, me 'ands 'opelessly 'anging in me pockets as they fiddled with 'im.

I followed them like the Welsh fucking sheep I was, the daylight blinding me as 'is injuries soon became painfully clear. I couldn't think about 'em though; I just glanced, moping.

_"Who's coming with him to hospital?"_

My 'ead snapped up. I became animated once again. "I will."

I saw Annie's face, tearful yet determined to be with 'im. Truth to be told, she was in no state to go anywhere apart from bed. Her minimalist amount of make up running a marathon, crimson stains tarnishing 'er pure white shirt. She couldn't go like that.

"Gov..."

"No," I answered firmly, 'er whispers brave but still with a whimsically child like highness. "Go get cleaned up."

She was gonna argue - 'er mouth twitching at the corners, her eyes tightening in 'orror. "Wha- what if?"

Shit. She was thinking what I was.

"That is not a request. It's an order," I replied, realising my unnecessary harshness. This situation was making me into that coward ever more by the second. I couldn't bare the thought of 'er face collapsing if...

"I'll call you if anything 'appens." What a rubbishy, generic line! I wondered 'ow many people honestly said that in a day, if them six words were _really_ meant to be of comfort to anyone?

Me promise was enough to silence 'er - at least for now. Leaning over to 'im, she kissed 'is porcelain pale cheek, not looking back as she kept 'er 'ead down, one of me other officers escorting 'er away.

In a way, I kind of wish she'd stayed. She was obviously more experienced in these matters. Not the coward I was. I couldn't bare watching 'im struggle. Couldn't find me own strength to fight for 'im.

And I called meself a DCI?

One of 'em invited me into the back of the ambulance wit' me, expressing that it was in our best interest to go as soon as humanly possible.

There was a bench like thing beside 'im. I perched meself down, looking around. I'd never been in ambulance before. Except for when I was knocked out cold during a game of rugby. Huh, made me sound like a right sissy.

The paramedic must 'ave sensed the tension between 'im and me. He glanced nervously from 'is notes to Sammy, finally un-knotting 'is throat to speak.

"It's ok to touch him. In fact, it might help."

I gulped, keeping me leather gloves on me hands; he'd always loved the tough of leather against 'is skin.

To be continued...

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